


The Hermit and His Death

by dddarknesss



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-27
Updated: 2013-11-27
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:20:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dddarknesss/pseuds/dddarknesss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cradled between the madness of Gods and humans, he lives with all the answers... quietly... only with his song and the galaxies in his eyes...</p>
<p>                                                       ...until the next immortal comes...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hermit and His Death

It’s a place, where the sound of guns can’t be heard and where the mist of madly delusional fists of time bangs against the mystery and the forgotten will of the Gods. Just there, the silence of the righteousness stands side by side with the courage, harbored by the coward.

It’s a land with no earth, no water… no air; land that is home for the blind hermit, who counts the planets in the distance and sings with the lunar light of the stars…

_… or were they dead suns?..._

He pulls the strings of his faith, cleans the dust nestled between the fine cries of his beliefs… Then the next immortal comes to ask him about his Death. That is when he forgets his faith and, with all-seeing gaze, stares into the shadows, gathered in the corner of the nothingness.

The curve of the nonexistent wind stirs the soft curls of his hair, discovering its innumerable colors and hidden worlds, listening to the gray of his eyes.

In the quietness the immortal will leave – wiser and full with the murmurs of his own Death. The star-gazer will breathe a sigh, heaved with all the knowledge of a small child, and universes will gather in his blind eyes to hear of _his_ Deaths.

They will collect his life, cradle it, and listen to how he counts the planets in the distance, singing with the everlasting light of thousands dead suns.

And he will play beautifully on his strings of faith – a lullaby, and smile softly to the cries of his beliefs…

_…until the next immortal comes…_


End file.
